Caramel in Your Coffee
by in-Pursuit-Of-Magic-97
Summary: They see each other in the coffee shop every day, but neither had said anything. Harry/Hermione Fluff abound! AU!


"Grande, double-sugar, vanilla latte with caramel drizzle."

He stared shyly at her face as she bit her lip, her rosy lips forming a cute oval shape as she recited her order. He knew it by heart by now, but he didn't know why he still loved hearing her say the words.

When he got back to her with her coffee, he almost paused in his step because there she was, unmindful of the bustling crowd around her, engrossed in her book as she waited for her order to be ready. It was beyond cute and oh yes, so much distracting. Fuck, he still had so many customers to serve and all he wanted to do was watch her and serve her and repeat.

"Miss?"

She looked up from her book, a small apologetic smile forming on her lips as she closed her book, making sure a finger remained inside it to not lose the page she was reading. She took her latte with her other hand.

"Thanks..." She glanced at him with a small blush on her cheeks, and he gave her a bashful smile in return. Standing up on her tiptoes, she suddenly leaned forward and his breath caught in his throat, his heart fluttering at the unexpectedness of her action.

"Harry." She completed, and then he understood that she had just read his name from his uniform.

He nodded dumbly as she grinned at him and turned back to find a table to sit. A small nudge to his ribs had him breaking out of his stupor and he threw a dirty look at his best friend, Neville.

"You're gonna make me lose my bet, Harry."

Harry looked at his friend who was shaking his head at him as if taking pity on him. "What?" he asked ever so eloquently.

Neville's mischievous grin made him bristle slightly. "Nothing," he began nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather, "Your mum made a bet with me."

Harry suddenly found himself on the defensive, "What bet?"

Neville made a tsk sound at him and refused to answer, busy serving the plethora of clients waiting in line. "Nothing."

"Nev! What. Bet."

After serving a tall order of iced tea, Neville looked at him for a second, a grin breaking out on his face, "A bet about when you are going to ask her out."

"Ask who…." Harry found himself asking automatically but stopped, his heart performing a small dance at the ridiculous but exciting idea of asking that beautiful girl out.

"Better do it fast, mate. You never know when someone else might come and seize the opportunity."

Harry found himself growing cold at the thought, an unexpected gloom making his stomach knot inside and his eyes immediately turned towards the large French windows of the cafe beside which _she_ was sitting alone with her coffee. She was still reading that wretched book, Wuthering Heights. Oh, how he hated to love that book.

Her cheeks were still slightly pink, her face turning just a little to the other side every sixty-two seconds or so, having finished reading the page. After every double the number of seconds, she would turn the page and take a giant sip of her coffee.

Just as he was berating himself for staring at her again - he had been doing that quite a lot recently and had even been caught for it - she turned her head and as if by fate's will, looked straight at him. Or rather, he thought, into him. Her eyes were just like the sweet caramel she asked for in her favourite drink. He didn't know if it was her favourite obviously, but if a girl orders the same hot beverage for every day at the same time for two months straight, it is bound to be her favourite.

He found himself getting lost into her eyes, growing indifferent to his surroundings. His hands worked on their own accord, supplying a new order at the counter. Just as he thought about breaking his stare, a loud noise in front of him made him frown.

"What the fuck? Why would you put freaking caramel in my coffee?!" asked a customer angrily, his gaze murderous, looking like a blink away from throwing his cup at him.

Harry retreated slowly, and looked at the bill of the coffee he had just served. It not only had no mention of caramel, but it also had the words no-sugar and decaf printed on it. He winced visibly.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," he began, "I'll make you a new one right away." he said and turned back hurriedly to make the correct order this time. He heard the man exclaiming that he'll not be paying extra for it.

"Of course not, Sir. Here you go," Harry said, handing the displeased client his coffee and averting his eyes, feeling ashamed.

As soon as the man left, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to help Neville, the queue now almost empty.

Even after the last customer was served, Harry found himself studiously avoiding the part of the cafe where _she _was sitting. He had been embarrassed enough for today.

"What do we do with this, Harry?"

Harry saw his friend pointing towards the lonely cup of coffee sitting in the corner of the back counter. The same which had been rejected due to his stupid mistake. He felt pity for the now cold, abandoned coffee.

"I'll take it," came a familiar voice from near him and he did he double take. "If you could just warm it up."

"What?" he asked dumbly again and was shaken by his elbow from his best friend.

"The lady wants her coffee, mate." Neville supplied helpfully, and Harry found his brain starting to work again.

He warmed the stale coffee up, but expertly and secretly made another, fresh cup for her, just the way she liked, alongwith the caramel. This time, she wasn't reading and he found her observing him as he worked.

"Here you go, Miss," he said, handing her cup to her.

"Hermione."

Harry raised an eyebrow in response and she laughed, "My name is Hermione."

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "From A Winter's Tale?"

Flushing with embarrassment, he began to retreat from the counter when she spoke again, "Yeah. You read Shakespeare?"

Her voice had a curiosity that drew him like a magnet and he found himself answering, "Yes. A lot, actually. I love each and every one of his plays."

"Same. Which one's your favourite?" Hermione grinned widely as she asked, and Harry found himself committing every inch of her unblemished beauty into his memory.

"As You Like It," Harry replied instantly, grinning like a fool in return to her smile.

"Hmm. Mine is Othello. I am more of a tragedy girl myself."

"I noticed," Harry said, gesturing towards the closed book in her hand. Hermione laughed and he found himself enjoying the sound of it. It was just as beautiful as it was infectious, and he found himself chuckling too.

"Can we sit and discuss Shakespeare?"

The question made him pause and a million things played in his head and while he desperately wanted to say yes, he found himself hesitant. But Neville, bless him, came to his rescue and nudged him forward.

"Go on, I'll manage for a while here."

Hermione smiled again and Neville gave her a two finger salute, winking.

"Of course. Shakespeare. Yes. Of course, we can discuss Shakespeare," Harry stumbled over his words as Hermione led him to her own corner in the cafe.

"So, this is your regular job?" she asked once they'd seated opposite each other. Harry found himself sitting at the same place he'd wanted for so many days now.

"No. I like to help out. This is my godfather, Sirius's cafe."

Hermione nodded, her eyes never leaving his, "And you like this job?"

"I love everything related to coffee," he replied smartly.

Hermione laughed again and Harry found himself wishing he could hear that laughter every single day in his life. He sipped his own cup of coffee, the same stale cup that he'd accidently made, while Hermione took a sip from her own.

"I work part time at the local library," Hermione said, and Harry found himself paying attention to every word she said, "I'm studying medicine."

_Beautiful and smart._ When Hermione blushed prettily, Harry looked down in his lap bashfully, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Hermione didn't say anything as she guffawed and Harry found his cheeks hurting with smiling so much. But he knew it was a pain he was prepared to suffer everyday if it meant they could do this again. Tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or everyday.

"What are you studying?"

"Literature. I want to be a writer."

"Wow. Have you written anything yet?"

Harry looked into her eyes again and found curiosity mixed with ...something else there. He felt himself growing warm inside. It was a beautiful feeling.

"Yeah. I...I run a small blog on the internet."

"Wordpress?" she asked.

"Yeah. But nobody reads it. It's just...there. I publish some pieces from time to time," Harry found himself confessing, focussing his eyes on the table.

"I'll read it." Harry looked at her at that, his eyes taking in hers and seeing only a genuine promise in them. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

Hermione scoffed and put her phone in front of him on the table. "Give me your number."

"What?"

"Give me your number so I can ask you for the url of your blog later."

Later. Now, that was a promise. He found himself doing just as she asked, finding it hard to refuse her anything. "By the way, how's the coffee?" he asked as he returned her phone to her.

"It's marvelous, just as I love. How come you never asked me that earlier? I have been coming here for weeks."

"Nine weeks and three days," he blurted out and covered his mouth with his palm in reflex, his eyes growing wide with embarrassment.

Hermione shook her head grinning widely and said, "You are good at that."

Harry was almost afraid of asking but he did anyway, "What?"

"Noticing things, keeping track of stuff."

Harry flushed and cringed inwardly at how lame he must appear and began to apologise when she held up her hand, "I notice things too, you know."

"Like what?"

"The way you always have my bill ready before I even order."

Harry's mouth dropped open at that and he felt his face grow hot.

"You see me at the door and immediately prepare the bill, without even waiting for me to come order."

"How did you ...?"

"How did you know that I'll not drink something else?"

Harry felt that if he blushed a second more, his face will retain the colour permanently. "I ...didn't. I just felt it was your favourite and you would most likely order the same."

Hermione grinned at his response, finding his antics sweeter than the caramel in her coffee. "It is in fact my favourite."

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" she asked, looking at her watch and Harry found himself lost in taking in her cute wrist and the tiniest bit of skin exposed, "I have to run, sorry."

Shaking himself inwardly, he smiled and nodded, "Same time, same coffee?"

Hermione smiled widely and he found her two slightly larger front teeth wink at him from the curtain of her full lips.

"Of course."

They walked to the door together amidst a handful of customers, and he stepped forward to pull the door open for her.

"He's your friend?" Hermione asked, gesturing towards Neville who was studiously _not_ looking in their direction.

"Best friend." Harry replied.

Hermione nodded and Harry suddenly felt a little bold as he saw her step onto the sidewalk.

Something inside his chest prompted him to ask her, "And what am I to you, Hermione?"

"You are the caramel in my coffee," she said, throwing him a wink and continuing on her way.

_Three years later when they finally tied the knot, Hermione's favourite hot beverage still hadn't changed. _

_**Fin.**_


End file.
